The World I Left Behind
by Pepsi Dew
Summary: The last moments of the wanderer.
1. Part 1

**Part 1**

The young man lifted his head from the cold, stone floor, his vision blurring in front of him, barely making out the altar where Mono lied. He propped himself up with his elbows and finally raised to his feet.

He expected it already, a disembodied voice… or voices, rang through the wide hall. Masculine and feminine, two voices wielded into one distressing harmony.

"Finally," it said, the stream of light from the circular cut on the temple's ceiling poured onto the red-headed young man's face, "The last colossus… The ritual is nearly over…"

The mortal looked away from the light, adjusting his sword belt, his breathing slightly heavy.

"Thy wish is nearly granted, but someone stands to get in thy way… Make haste, for time is short…" Dormin's voice echoed, the masculine voice dominating this time, he could barely make out the feminine voice, but it was still there, faint and soft.

Just one more and it would be over. The wanderer knew the heavy price he had to pay to revive Mono back from the dead. He knew how it destroyed the balance of life in order to do such a dangerous task, but he did not care. Mono was not supposed to die. She did not deserve death.

He patted his horse, mounted it and rode off to his next destination; South. To the end of the world


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

The wanderer decided to stop his horse nearby a pond where it was surrounded by a moss-covered tree bearing fresh fruits. It was an oasis, but it wasn't in the middle of a desert, it was situated right in the middle of a luscious green-covered field. He saw, at a distance, mountain ranges, cliffs, clouds above wispy, showing the brilliant blueness of the sky.

He drank from the spring. Agro followed suit, the tips of her mane brushing against the surface of the water. He saw his reflection in the water, rippling because of Agro drinking next to him. He took off his blue headband, what became of it was not as appealing as the first time he entered the Forbidden Land. It was now covered in grime and muck, losing its bright colour. He shook his head, feeling his hair unstick from his forehead. He rubbed his scalp with his fingers and felt bumps at the back of his skull. Too many times he was accidentally hit on pieces of stone armour the colossi wore while battling them. He saw his hands, aside from the callouses on his palms, they were paler than usual. He saw black lines running underneath his skin and he knew something was wrong with him. His legs showed clear green and black bruises and fresh wounds that were slowly getting worse each day.

Ever since he defeated the first colossus, the moment the black strings of fluid escaping from the dying monster impaled his body, devouring him from within, he knew he was tainted with the black blood that would change him forever. Was this what Dormin meant of having a heavy price to pay?

He touched the cut on his calf and it drew blood. The mortal swallowed. He was getting reckless. It was hard to accept the fact that with every blow he took from the beastly colossus, he would never fully heal from them. His physical body was deteriorating, but his strength was getting stronger. The black blood's power.

The young man stood up, taking one last look at himself in the pond's reflection before pursuing the end. His tunic tattered and worn out, his dark red hair sticking out at weird ends; atrocious and dirty.

He grabbed two fallen ripe fruits from a nearby tree before getting on the black mare. Urging the horse to move, he carefully split one of the fruits in half and ate it. They traversed across the field.

Half the day went by and the sun was hanging low. The red-head jumped off his horse, looking up at the gigantic structure before him. Two huge doors stood in front of him. A circular platform was placed before it and he stood on it. Connecting the two doors together was another circular pattern. Raising his weapon hand up in the hair, he aimed the light source towards the centre of the circle on the entranceway. By a mysterious force, there was a grinding sound and he knew the gate was being opened.

He felt a slight breeze push against him, his frayed cape fluttering behind. Gripping the sheathe of the sword, he slid the glowing weapon inside and walked forward with Agro beside him. With her reins in his hand, he led them to a small shrine of worship. The wanderer untied the small sack on Agro's saddle and produced the untouched fruit he picked earlier. He gave it to Agro, who butted her face against his as a sign of gratitude. He smiled at her, while patting her neck.

After a while, he proceeded to kneel in front of the shrine. Slowly, he brought his black-veined hands together and prayed. He did not know what to expect, every colossus he killed was different from one another. The physical exercise exhausted him. Then there were the tinier colossi that were proved to be more difficult to handle. It was mental exercise to come up with a crafty tactic to bring them down. He prayed that he would be able to triumph over the last colossus. The final sixteenth colossus that was needed to complete the ritual so that Mono can regain back her life. From the state of his physical condition that he was in, he vaguely knew what was to become of him. That was probably the heavy price to pay. In exchange for her life, he would have to die. He could think of no other possible solution. It was the balance of life.

The mare nudged him on the shoulder, breaking his concentration. He did not know how long he was kneeling there, drowned in his deep thoughts, but he was grateful that the horse snapped him out of his reverie. Time was wasting.

He drove his horse up the staircase and they found themselves on top of a gorge with an epic structure in the middle of it. The young man looked up, a storm was brewing and was aware that on top of the tower was where the ultimate colossus rest. A stone narrow bridge lay across, the only means of getting to the other side to the tower.

As soon as the horse placed her hoof on the bridge, it gave way and Agro began to gallop faster. However, the bridge was collapsing too fast, catching up to them when suddenly, Agro and the wanderer were already so close to the tower's platform, the floor buckled underneath and with a last spurt of strength, the mare lunged forward making the human sail across the air, landing roughly on the spire's floor.

A panicked neigh rang through the air and the wanderer, dazed, quickly and clumsily got up to his feet and scrabbled to the edge of the platform. He reached out for his mare, but it was too late. The young man watched in horror as Agro fell to the bottom of the gorge.

"AGRO!" He shouted in pain. Tears welling up and his lips trembling. She was a horse, but she was still _his_ horse and his friend. They travelled all over the plains of the Forbidden Land together, he had assumed that she would be there even as the journey ended. He still had one more colossus to go, but Agro was gone. He withdrew from the edge of the platform and wiped his eyes. Regrettably, he still had business left to attend, grieving can be done later.

He climbed the tower that sat under the brewing thunderstorm, to what he assumed to be his ticket to death.


	3. Part 3 End

**Part 3**

The wanderer fell from the top of the giant's head after stabbing it with all his might with the ancient magical sword.

_It's over,_ he thought lazily. The pure-black, tentacle-like liquid pierced through his body that was once sealed inside the last colossus. He hit the ground with an unimaginable loud thud. Falling from so high up, no one would ever thought he could survive such a fall.

* * *

><p>The wanderer was lost. Everything was a blur. His vision was failing him. His mind numb, yet it was buzzing with indescribable sounds. There were shouting… What were they saying? He could not make out the words. He thought he was dead after killing the colossus. He stood up craggily. He saw blurry visions of other humans besides himself and Mono. Was he, himself, even human?<p>

"…Possessed by the dead…" said one of the men.

The wanderer tried to focus on the stranger's face. Lord Emon? It looked like him, but it could not be… He stepped closer. Suddenly pain seared through his thigh. He was shot by an arrow. The red-head fell onto the stone floor. He recognized the floor, it was the temple.

Mono.

He lifted his head, making every effort to face the altar. She was still there. He had to get to her, but something was pulling him from underneath. It was a shadow, swallowing him from below. He must not give up. Collapsing to the floor in exhaustion, he was met with a sword in front of his face as he looked up at the ceiling. The tip of the sword inches away from his demonic white eyes. More pain enveloped his body. Stabbed in the chest. He felt his life slip away. He inched his hands towards the sword that ran through him, struggling to get it off. He did not know how he did it, but he managed to stand up and face the group of men. He heard gasps of surprise. His eyesight grew dim and the last thing he saw was Mono. He tried to reach out to her, yet death consumed him for the second time.


End file.
